


Aren't We All Human In The End?

by GraveyardDisco



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Found Family, M/M, References to Frankenstein, Robot Gerard Way, Robots, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, as in build family by hand, gabe saporta is a uni professor i dont know why either, more tags to be added later?, university professor frank
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-16 13:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21508465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveyardDisco/pseuds/GraveyardDisco
Summary: Frank Iero thinks he's finally cracked the code on making a robot man. But, what will the world think of him? And better yet, what will the robot think of the world?
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Aren't We All Human In The End?

“Walk with me, Dr. Iero.” Dr. Saporta takes Frank's arm as they stroll through Central Hall, passing the milling students on their way to lunch. 

Dr. Saporta leads Frank outside then, exposed to the charming snowy skies and cobbled streets. The campus almost looks like a castle out here, flowing organic lines and spires merging into geometric structures, and all of it set in heavy stone. 

Sparkling snow paints the rooftops and sidewalks as they walk, kicking up a soft flurry behind them. Frank thinks it all looks very peaceful, in a way, with most the residents gone to lunch. 

Dr. Saporta stops to turn to him, snow dust in his curly hair and sooty eyelashes. “So, Dr. Iero, now that we are away from prying eyes and listening ears, tell me about this little pet project of yours?”

He starts walking again and Frank follows close, walking almost backwards so he can see Dr. Saporta’s face in regards to his grand plan. 

“Alright, so, I was thinking about the failure ratio of most projects in the tech field, and about some of the past research that's gone in machine learning.”

Dr. Saporta hmms and gestures for him to go on. 

“Then I talked to some of the brightest biotech and robotech students about upcoming research, for which they were overjoyed. Unfortunately every time I tried to talk to the Informatics students they tried to shove ethics up my ass, which was not what I wanted to hear at all,” Frank almost walks backwards into a tree on the Wentzian courtyard, but sidesteps quickly.

Dr. Saporta pokes him in the shoulder, grinning, “Get to the point, Dr. Iero, why did you not ask teachers for research, but why ask me?”

Frank smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “A bird told me that you are still in contact with some of our more, well, outrageous alumnus?”

Dr. Saporta has a kind of sharp giggling laugh that rings around the open air, “Oh, well that explains it! I was really wondering why me, after all, my field of study is useless to you. Sound-specific physics in machine learning? Not likely.”

He bumps Frank’s shoulder with his own, “Anyway, well why don't you come down to the Hatter’s Club later this week and we can talk in more detail about your plans. And maybe some sponsors, yes, this they will be interested in. I'll bring all my favorite friends for you to talk to.”

Dr. Saporta walks off more in the direction of his office and Frank wonders to the cloud-laden sky when his luck got so good.

\-------

Three years later there's a knock on the door of Frank’s studio-to-lab converted space, and Dr. Saporta steps inside.

“Frankie baby! It feels like years!” he slaps Frank's shoulder and tries to look past him to the lab in the next room.

“It _has_ been years, stupid!” Frank jabs at his shoulder with an elbow and turns to lead him through the archway.

Dr. Saporta’s breath catches when he looks between Frank and the machine, “It looks like you've done it, Dr. Iero. Maddest minds, indeed.”

Frank gives a short laugh and moves around the table to the massive computer setup on the other side of the spacious room. “Yeah, your friends at the Hatter’s Club were leagues more helpful than my students.”

Light from the high set windows pours over to mix with the artificial overhead, and Frank presses a few more keys. He spins around to face Dr. Saporta with a flourish, but the rolling chair takes him a bit too far so he corrects and scoots back. 

Dr. Saporta claps once, drawing Frank’s attention. “Never before, and never again. If this is a success you do understand the world must never know, correct? At least, they cannot know yet.”

Frank nods, he had expected this after all. If something like this could be done, then there's no way it wouldn't go wrong once big business got the plans for it. The project was more to prove that you could, more than for monetary gain. 

Dr. Saporta responds with a nod of his own, changing gears, “Right! Now that that has been established, tell me about your little creation!”

“Well, I wouldn't call him little,” Frank gestures to the body on the table, “he” was of an average male height, strange might the design be. 

Dr. Saporta quirks an eyebrow, leaning forward with a smirk. “Ah, so ‘him’ then? Fascinating. Most of the previous attempts like this have been artificial robotic women.”

Frank does another spin on his rolling chair, furrowing his brow. “Yes, well, it's simply because they're all horny fucks trying to make a dream girl. This design is much more important than that.” 

Dr. Saporta looks like he's about to make another joke, but his face changes in recognition as the pieces fall into place. “Oh. It's the boy from the picture.”

Frank nods solemnly, “The very same. For as close as I could get him, with every detail I could find.”

Dr. Saporta seems to sense this steadily spiraling downward mood so he snaps back to the original goal. “So! Tell me how you did it, I'm just dying to know.”

Frank is honestly glad for the change in subject. He's not ready to talk about the boy again, not when his near replica is laying on the table.

“So I felt that the fault of most machine learning programs suffer from too much information from the start. Were I to replicate a human being, I needed to not cut corners with robotic solutions, but let the machine learn from nothing at all, as a human baby would.” 

Frank pulls up his schematic for the “brain” system on a larger wall screen, a complicated mess of hand drawn diagrams and digital renders.

“So that's where the internal thoughts began. As for external components, it was important to me to hold the same principles in mind.”

Frank points to the face of the figure on the screen, “So instead of having cameras for eyes, I needed to replicate human eye structures with polymers and resins and micro mirrors to reflect the light in the very same. This ended up being just as much a study in bioengineering as it was robo-technologies.” 

Dr. Saporta snaps his fingers, catching on with the concepts. “Almost as if you had taken a human and replaced every piece with a top-of-the-line prosthetic from the bioengineering field! God, that's genius! But such tedious work. I can imagine why this hasn't been attempted before now.” 

Frank smiles sadly, expression wavering in the filtered sun. He knows why he spent so much time. But that doesn't matter now. “That is a completed with the help of the Hatter friends as resources, but that was only phase one. Now, he has to come alive and start to feel. I anticipate no movement for at least the first week, but I want you to be here for when I activate him, seeing as in some ways it was you that allowed me to start.” 

Dr. Sporta's face lights up. “Can I press the button! You know, for science?”

Frank types the long series of commands into the prompt window and then points to the enter key, waiting for Dr. Saporta.

He makes a running sort of leap from across the lab, jabbing at the enter key with a solid thwack. He immediately spins around to see if the machine came alive like some sort of Frankenstien’s Monster, but there is of course, no movement. 

Frank laughs, poking at Dr. Saporta’s side. “I told you man, no anticipated movement for a while.”

Dr. Saporta pouts before quickly shifting back into a grin. “Hey, Hey, Dr. Iero.” He pauses for effect as Frank continues to look at him. 

“Frank-enstein’s Monster.”

“Oh fuck off!” Frank draws out the last syllable as he tries to push Dr. Saporta out of the room. Bad puns are not tolerated at this establishment.


End file.
